


Prologue - A New World

by Estelhope



Series: The Immortal from Brooklyn [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Depression, Immortal Harry Potter, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Master of Death Harry Potter, Powerful Harry, Prologue, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:14:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24578875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Estelhope/pseuds/Estelhope
Summary: The first part in the Immortal from Brooklyn series -- It's more of a prologue for the other series.To say Harry Potter had not intended to become the Master of Death would be an understatement. And to say Death was pleased to be "mastered" would be an even bigger understatement.
Series: The Immortal from Brooklyn [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1776544
Comments: 10
Kudos: 183





	Prologue - A New World

**Author's Note:**

> This is the beginning of a series of oneshots about Harry in the Avengers universe. This work spans from Captain America to Endgame - with a number of changes along the way.

Death did not like to be cheated. It liked even less to be Mastered. So when he had felt the rejoining of his three hallows he had felt rage. When he had been denied meeting his Master at the moment of his first death, he had felt cold. A cold that would not be melted or warmed. Fate had tangled with her strings and had screwed him over for the last time. If Fate wanted her champion to live forever, to go on and on without end, she would get it. But he would make her regret it.  
He met his Master, one Harry Potter, shortly after his thirtieth birthday. His second death was sudden and more entertaining than his first. Fourteen dead aurors arrived with him in an attack that would send the wizarding world reeling. Death had sent the fourteen onwards, but Harry… he had taken great pleasure in sending him back without a word of explanation. Watching as the world of Harry Potter fell apart was more amusing than anything Death could have hoped for. And the increasing panic he knew his sister was feeling made everything better.

The third time Harry arrived in his realm had been a surprising twist - the likes of which even Fate had not anticipated. Harry had slit his own wrists open after an attack on the Ministry of Magic had taken the lives of Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. Death had already sent them on when Harry arrived, making him jump when he had turned to find the pale face of his Master right there. They had fought, Harry shouting accusations and Death firing back just as hard. Harry had tried bargaining - skipping the first of the five stages. Afterall, why delay bargaining when death is right in front of you to bargain with, and anger could come when he was denied. Harry had made himself heard though, and Death gave him a grudging respect after that. He had been sent back to clean up his own blood and live what semblance of a life he could. And didn’t it irk Death when he went and did just that. He raised his godson, adopting him fully into his bloodline, sent him to school, stood beside him at his wedding and tore up a forest in his grief when he had passed on. But he continued onwards, living in peace. He became a secret to his little family, something they could pass along in place of an Invisibility Cloak. He was revered, he was a myth.

But the five stages would not be held in the limbo of apathy forever.

Depression came when the last of his bloodline was killed - a mob of wizards so frightened of the bloodline of their mythic saviour that they had murdered a young woman and her baby in cold blood. Harry had destroyed them all. Death had never seen a wrath like that of Harry Potter. And neither had it seen a depression so great as the likes of Harry Potter. The world of magic and wonder, the one Harry had been born into and lived his life in, ended the day Harry’s bloodline ended - though they wouldn’t know it for several more centuries. So, unable to place his Master back into that world he had chosen another. But he had not anticipated, or he had quite forgotten, the grief that Harry felt when he lost everything - his family, his people, his world, and his humanity. Harry had not even entered the new world Death had chosen for him. He had drifted in the void between life and death, apathetic to everything around him. In those millenia, Death had first felt victorious. He had bested Fate’s designs and all would be right. Then he had started to feel concern for his Master - even as he floated in a state that could only be described as sleep for all that they needed it there. Finally his concern grew to worry and fear. His Master was wasting away, and for all that he hated the idea of having a Master waste away, he couldn’t allow him to dissolve into stardust. The grudging respect he had given Harry at his third death had become something akin to fondness, for all an ancient primordial being can feel. So he did something that broke the rules he had given himself when he had reaped his first soul. He put a soul back.

Harry was reborn and allowed to live a life again. His own life. But this time, when he died and came to the Station at the Inbetween he met with Death. And Death gave him back his memories of his first life. The depression ended, and Death was glad to see it go. And years later, struck down by a killing curse to the back, Harry Potter Greeted Death like an old friend.

Testing came next. Harry wanted to know everything about his gift/curse. So death obliged. He was reborn, reincarnated, dropped through space and time. And in that sea of lives and experiences, Harry came to Acceptance. And in a way, so did Death.

So when a sudden influx of souls came to his realm, he asked Harry to see to it.

And promptly dropped Harry into the middle of The Great Depression as a form of payback. Never let it be said that Death could not be spiteful. Or ironic.

* * *

The initial arrival in New York of 1932 was anything but pleasant. A few snarky words of warning from Death was not much by way of preparation. The familiar feeling of being squeezed through a very tight tube, swiftly followed by a pain that started with his toes and worked its way upwards until it coursed through his whole body. He had felt like he was burning from the inside out, his very magic consuming him alive until there was nothing left of him but an atom in the void. And then he was there. Picking himself up from the pavement and narrowly avoiding being hit by an oncoming car as his legs trembled and stumbled beneath him.  
Death had warned him about this universe, how he could not appear to him as he used to. Death did not have a personification here, nor did he have an avatar who could communicate freely with his Master. There was a self-titled “Goddess of Death”, but she was imprisoned in a Void Realm and could do little more than ferry souls to this world's afterlife. Harry would be on his own for this one.

The first step, as it always was whenever he travelled the multiverse, was finding a base of operations and establishing an identity. So, banks. Which, due to his placement in this world's time, was a problem. Usually his identity was already well established by the time he arrived. The deities of Magic and Fate doing their part to help him out whenever they could.

Harry checked his coat, finding a small pouch and a set of documents rolled together inside of one of his pockets. A quick check of the provided papers gave him a name and a past that would satisfy anyone who bothered to check. And in 1932, he didn’t need to worry about an electronic paper trail.

In this world, he was Harry Peverell, only surviving member of the Peverell Family. His mother had been an heiress and his father a well respected soldier - killed in battle during the first world war. His fortune was small, compared to the wealth of the Old Families in England, but it was enough that he could live comfortably and start over fairly easily in America. He had a degree in business from Cambridge University - which would be backed up by several false memories planted in the minds of any professor that might be asked, if anyone bothered to ask that was. All in all, it was a good cover. Wealthy to the point that he could dance in any of the same circles as the elite, but unobtrusive enough that he could pass unnoticed if he wanted. And right now, that was exactly what he wanted.

The pouch he had found alongside the papers contained a wallet with several notes and a banking slip that linked to an account with the Bank of England. As well as the signed deed to a piece of property located in Brooklyn.

“Best to go where they send me at the start,” he muttered to himself and hailed a cab.

* * *

The storefront used to be a grocers. The faded and peeling sign still bore the name “Giuliano's Grocery”. The windows and doors were boarded up and there was a faint trace of dust over everything. It looked perfectly abandoned, despite the keys changing hands several times. There was a small apartment just above the store, a staircase led up to it from the alleyway behind. Someone had intended to live there, once. The building had been built with the intention for someone to live there. But nobody had ever taken up residence. All in all, the storefront was nothing of any importance to anybody - except for the building's new owner. And Harry Potter could not have asked for a better place to settle.

**Author's Note:**

> So short I know! But this is just the first part of a long lasting series. I hope to put more up before the end of the pandemic and everyone has to go back to work, but hey I'm an unreliable writer who's unprecedentedly good at procrastinating.
> 
> I thought this would be a good end for this Prologue because I had difficulty segueing into Captain America from where this one ends.
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed it and you can reach me directly on my facebook page here: https://www.facebook.com/DNStalker
> 
> There you can also find small personal updates on life and how the writing is going. I have a few prologues and previews of works I've been writing.


End file.
